


Trouble Magnet

by PhantasmaDormi



Series: Syndianite/Diacate [5]
Category: Mianite - Fandom, Mianite(Minecraft Series), Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Characters purely from the youtube series, Dianite is a God, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Rare Pair, Tom is a zombie, Unrevised Older Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2019-01-08 21:02:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12262035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantasmaDormi/pseuds/PhantasmaDormi
Summary: Tom cannot stop getting in trouble and Dianite is this close to locking him in a room until he finally stops.





	Trouble Magnet

**Author's Note:**

> Old work from late July

Dianite didn’t know what he expected. Perhaps he had hoped that after being revived Tom had lost the ability to get into trouble without even trying. It seems that was too much to ask for. He left the zombie with Furia (His biggest fuck you to Mianite this century) for ten minutes, and he comes back to an all-out war. Tom’s arm was on fire, the ground was scorched once more (a typical characteristic of the Nether, but not in his goddammed temple dammit), Furia sported quite a few lacerations and a nasty gash spreading out over his collarbone. He should have seen this coming.

As the two reared up to go at it again he let out an aggravated shout, “STOP.” The idiots froze, peering at him with guilty expressions. Tom, however, was quick to defend himself. “He started it!” He crossed his arms childishly, still carrying his sword. “This asshole-” Before Tom could continue, Furia retorted, “Well maybe if you weren’t an insecure dumbass.” He bared his teeth at Tom. “I wouldn’t have had to set you on fire.”

“Well-” his words seemed to sink in as Tom noticed the flames licking at his suit, “SHIT.” He futilely tried to stamp it out with his hand before Dianite simply waved it off. Pinching the bridge of his nose (he was all for fighting, but they were acting like two-year olds) he sighed. “I don’t care who started it! I left you alone for ten minutes, and you’re at each other’s throats. Save it for my brother’s followers at least.” Tom had the dignity to at least look somewhat sheepish, Furia simply shrugged and looked away.

“Come on Tom, let’s get you patched up. Then we’ll see if I’ll even let you look outside.” With that the god strode out of the room with a petulant champion tagging behind him.

~

This time he had let Tom roam the Nether, after hours of Tom nagging him, hours of trying to focus on his work with a bored zombie incessantly trying to get his attention. In all honest, he didn’t know why he didn’t at least watch his champion, for all the times he’d gotten in trouble in the realm before. Some part of him had hoped Tom knew better. But alas, Tom was currently running full speed away from an angry group of zombie pigmen.

“Aw, come on guys,” Tom shouted back at the screeching mob, narrowly avoiding a pigmen descending from above, “We’re like, zombie brothers! It’s not my fault Jim over here felt the need to jump out in front of me mining for nether ore!” Jim was not in fact the pigman's name, it was Lefarei, and he was not happy at receiving a pickaxe to his good eye! He would show the stupid green man what it was like to have a hole for an eye. The responding squeals Tom heard made no sense, but the pigmen seemed to start running faster. He was so not giving Jim a get-well card.

Meanwhile, the Nether god was trying to discern whether or not the outraged pig squeals were the cause of his beloved (read: idiotic) champion, or another, perhaps of lesser value mortal. For a moment, he pondered just letting whatever happened happen. He was backlogged on his work (if only his followers hadn’t decided to wage a war against the marshmallow kingdom, again, a place he was still baffled by), and surely whoever it was that pulled this stunt (most definitely Tom at this point, if the cursing British accent was anything to go by) would figure their way out. He couldn’t take the chance that they would just resort to slaughtering all the pigmen, it was hard to find good replacements for around his temple.

Rolling his eyes, he chose to investigate the scene. He teleported just above the ruckus, and lo-and-behold, there was Tom, fleeing from an angry following of pigmen. “You seem to be having a great time outside,” the god teased, choosing to just sit back and watch. He didn’t need to finish his work anyway. The zombie scowled in his direction. “Oh, fuck you.” Dianite responded with a chuckle, “That could be arranged.”

~

And then he let Tom go back to the Overworld for half an hour. Half an hour. Really, he didn’t know how he didn’t see this coming. First, he parades through some Mianite worshiping town, pisses them off, and steals a boat. On what was a perfectly clear day, he manages to encounter the one thunderstorm (he suspects Mianite wasn’t happy with his champion causing chaos in one of his towns), and ends up washed up on the shore of some uninhabited island. With Mianitee. (And then he turned out to be the champion of Mianite).

Of course, this all happened before the half-hour was even up. (He shamefully admits to not watching Tom’s antics, and therefore not being able to find him once he went to check on him). Then he gets shot by a fucking skeleton. Dianite wasn’t sure what he was going to do first, burn all the skeletons he sees (he’d be damned of he let any actually kill Tom), punt the dumbass Mianitee off his self-given mountain, or lock Tom in his temple. Scratch that, he was just going to not bother with this.

As the night passed, he brought Tom back to the temple. “That was fucking awesome!” Tom seemed so happy. For a moment, the god’s anger seemed to drain. For a moment. “What the hell Tom?” Dianite gave his champion an incredulous look. “How did you manage to fuck that much shit up in half and hour?” The zombie didn’t seem to notice the shaky ground his freedom was on. He puffed up his chest, pride almost radiating out of him. “Well, I am a Dianitee. The Dianitee! We’re supposed to fuck shit up! Besides, you can’t say you weren’t amused when those bitchy Mianitees were running around town like chickens with their heads cut off.”

The Nether god chose to wrap his arms around his beloved idiot instead of answering. He had a point. It was always a pleasure to see his brother’s followers act like fools. Even if it meant his acted worse. (Though, he pondered, they were supposed to be worse, the children of chaos). Cold hands returned the hug, loving the warmth radiating from the god. “Maybe one day you could be strategic chaos instead of stupid let’s-blow-everything-up chaos,” he grumbled in the zombie’s hair. “Eh,” he replied, “Too much work.”

“Can I go back out later?” Dianite just groaned.


End file.
